


For Love is Strong as Death

by Flyting



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Ghosts, Horror, Huxloween, M/M, Murder, Possession, Possibly Unrequited Love, ghost story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 22:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyting/pseuds/Flyting
Summary: In the far corner of the cemetery, up against the inside of the tall stone fence, is a pair of graves, sheltered in the shade of one of the big oak trees. Fed by so many dead, rotting things, the trees here have all grown huge and warped. This one’s gnarled roots have pushed their way up out of the ground.“See? It’s today,” Techie says. Matt tilts his head to read the one he’s staring at.Armitage HuxJanuary 15, 1883 - October 1, 1917“Huh. That’s creepy.”Or, Matt and Techie find themselves haunted by a pair of spirits with unfinished business.





	For Love is Strong as Death

“You’re supposed to hold your breath when you walk by a cemetery,” Matt said, remembering the old wives’ tale as he said it. “That’s what my grandmother used to say.”

It was a bad habit- words just slipped out of his mouth before his brain even had a chance to vet them. Talking to anyone else he’d have been embarrassed, but this was Techie. In all the years they’d been dating, Techie had never once told him to shut up.

“Oh yeah? Why?”

Grandma Beth had been small and frail and smelled like cough drops. When he was a kid she used to watch him on Sundays so his parents could ‘run errands’. Really, they’d just wanted a break from Matt.

Techie stopped, thoughtful, in front of the gap in the crumbling stone fence to the city cemetery and stood there, one hand in Matt’s, the other balled up in the pocket of his jacket. Mounted on the old iron gate was a much more recent plexiglass sign that said ‘CLOSED - DUSK to DAWN’. Matt frowns at it for a minute before deciding he didn’t like it. Something about the plasticy newness of the sign on the antique gate irritated him.

“I don’t know. Maybe breathing pisses off the dead people.”

Techie gave his shy little huff of a laugh, the one that always made Matt feel like he’d won something rare and precious.

Then he tugs at Matt’s hand, wanting to go inside, because of course he does. When they watch scary movies together it’s always Matt who ends up hiding behind that couch while Techie ate all their popcorn like it was nothing. That was him all over- nothing scared Techie except people.

Well, it’s not like they have anywhere better to be. It’s Sunday, and Matt had suggested a walk to the coffee shop on the corner for hot chocolate just as an excuse to get out of the house and get some fresh air. Techie would never go more than ten feet from the bedroom if left to his own devices, especially not since he moved his computer desk in there, but Matt gets restless if he stays cramped up for too long.

They walk slowly, occasionally bumping elbows or pointing out interesting headstones.

The cemetery is old. Most of the graves date from the last century. All crumbling stone, overgrown with moss. The distant sounds of life- of traffic and conversation and music played too loud on cheap car stereos- seem muted on the other side of the fence. It’s quiet, in a way that only a place that’s full of dead people can be. Filled with gentle rolling hills and big shady trees.

“This is nice.” Techie says what Matt is thinking.

“Yeah. Like the park, only without all the annoying kids and frisbee assholes.”

There’s a stone path, choked with weeds, and Matt thinks about fairy tales and stories heard as a kid about the dangers of straying from the path.

Of course when he isn’t looking Techie wanders off, out into the maze of headstones.

“Hey, look. This one has today’s date on it.”

His voice is distant, soft. Matt pauses in buffing his glasses on the hem of his sweater to look up. Since he’s nearsighted, Techie is mostly an orange-and-brown blur, lost in a sea of gray stone shapes.

He slips his glasses back on, pushing the thick frames up the bridge of his nose with a thumb out of habit, and the world jumps into focus. Techie’s found something off in the corner.

Matt joins him a few rows over, stepping over crisp leaves and sun-dappled grass. In the far corner of the cemetery, up against the inside of the tall stone fence, is a pair of graves, sheltered in the shade of one of the big oak trees. Fed by so many dead, rotting things, the trees here have all grown huge and warped. This one’s gnarled roots have pushed their way up out of the ground.

“See? It’s today,” Techie says. Matt tilts his head to read the one he’s staring at.  
  


Armitage Hux  
January 15, 1883 - October 1, 1917  
  


“Huh. That’s creepy.”

There are more words underneath, half obscured. Unreadable. Techie kneels down and brushes the dirt and moss away with strong, bony fingers.

“Set me as a... seal upon thine heart,” Techie reads, halting.

“What is that, a poem?”

Techie shrugs. Dusts his hands off on the knees of his jeans. He shifts, still crouched in the leaf-litter, to the grave beside it and wipes the dirt off that one as well. This one hasn’t been taken care of as well, or maybe it was just poorly made. The name is barely legible.

“Benjamin Organa.” Matt squints through his glasses, face scrunching up. “May first, eighteen-eighty-eight to...”  
  


October 6, 1917  
  


“He died five days later. There’s something written on this one too,” Techie frowns. His fingers pick over the words, feeling them out. _“For love... is strong as death.”_

The autumn wind whispers softly through the trees, scattering the leaves on the ground.

“That’s so sad.”

“You think they knew each other?” Matt says.

“They were buried side-by-side.”

Away from everyone else, in an abandoned corner of the cemetery.

“Might just be a coincidence,” he says.

A few meters away they find a family plot. A huge stone monument with the name _Organa_ in curving, old-fashioned script and a line of smaller headstones lined up in front of it like obedient children. They read the names and dates. Bail, Leia, Luke. The latest is from the fifties.

“It’s like they stuck him over there and forgot about him,” Techie says, an angry crease between his eyebrows. He’s always had a soft spot for abandoned things.

“Who, that Benjamin guy?”

“Yeah.”

Matt pulls one hand out of his pocket to rub the small of Techie’s back, comforting. “Come on, lets go home.”

 

 

“You think they were in love?” Techie says later. He’s been quiet through dinner- leftover pasta and some slightly wilted salad. Neither of them were great cooks. The microwave was the most used appliance in their kitchen.

Matt doesn’t need to ask who he’s talking about.

“I dunno,” he shrugs around a mouthful of penne. They can’t know, not really. “Maybe.”

Set me as a seal upon thine heart, for love is strong as death.

He thinks of his parents burying him in some neglected grave, away from his family, just because of who he fell in love with. About spending eternity beside the man he loved. Side-by-side under a tree.

“I hope so,” Techie says, pushing a piece of noodle around with his fork.

“Yeah,” Matt agrees softly. “Me too.”

 

 

That night Matt dreams about Techie.

_A party, surrounded by a swirl of dancers in unfamiliar clothes. Laughter. He knows, distantly, that there’s music playing but he can’t make out the tune. Only that it’s something fast and strong, a beat he can feel in his throat and his wrists. One-two-three, one-two-three._

_“I’ll never leave you,” he whispers into the crook of Techie’s neck. They’re in a hallway away from the party. Matt crowds him up against the wall. “I’ll never leave you.” Strong, bony hands creep under his jacket, bruising and clutching him close at the same time. Techie is wearing a high collar, like a military uniform, and Matt wants to tear into the coarse fabric with his teeth-_

_Before that._

_Matt is dancing with one of the women at the party, step and spin, one-two-three, when he sees him laughing with a group of toy soldiers. Techie’s eyes are cold and green, not blue, when they meet his across the room. He smiles like a predator, a little flash of sharp teeth, and Matt knows that he wants to be eaten._

_“Careful, Ben,” someone whispers in his ear._

_One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-_

His alarm goes off at seven and Matt feels like he’s barely slept at all.

 

 

Techie is the breadwinner of the relationship, which doesn't bother Matt as much as people seem to think it should. Techie mostly works from home, spending most days curled up in his fancy ergonomic desk chair thing, doing Penetration Testing for a digital security company.

Yes, Matt had made all the obligatory jokes when they first started dating.

But he knew enough about coding to know that Techie was good at what he did, and that was why he earned the big bucks. Hacking into stuff on demand, so big fancy companies could test their expensive security against him. Basically, getting paid to do the same things he used to do illegally.

Matt, on the other hand, installs satellite dishes.

After his fourth job of the day, which had necessitated crawling through some cranky old grandmother’s hoarder attic to run coax cable while she shouted at him from downstairs not to step on her stuff, getting covered in spiderwebs, and him bonking his head on low ceiling beams at LEAST three times, Matt switches his work phone to silent and decides to take a break.

He parks near the cemetery.

There’s a sandwich and some chips and a coke in his lunchbox, which he grabs out of the back seat and carries with him. Techie packed it for him every night before he went to bed. Sometimes he stuck cute stuff like a note or a bag of Matt’s favorite candy- peanut M&M’s- in there too.

It’s just because it’s convenient, he tells himself as he settles under one of the big trees in the cemetery with his lunch and cracks open the top on his coke. It’s nice and secluded and green. If he went to the park or something there would be people everywhere. Here it’s just him and a skinny girl in coveralls who doesn’t look up from raking leaves when he walks past.

He notices that no one has raked near the two graves Techie found yesterday.

While he’s eating, his personal phone chirps with an incoming text. He doesn’t have to check who it is. There’s only like two people who ever text him, and one is his dentist reminding him about appointments.

_\- You left the front door open :(_

Matt frowns. He could swear he even remembered locking it when he left this morning.

_\- I did? shit, I’m sorry. You ok?_

They lived in a pretty okay neighborhood, so he’s not too worried, but at the same time, Techie got nervous about that kind of thing. With good reason, Matt reminds himself.

_\- Yeah it just scared me._

_\- If you want to just go out until later I’ll check all the closets and stuff when I get home._

He gets a few bites of ham and cheese in before Techie texts back.

_\- No it’s okay. I’m just jumpy today I guess._

_\- you sure? why are you jumpy?_

The next message comes too quick.

_\- No I’m fine. I’m good. Totally fine. Nothing’s wrong. Ignore me!_

_\- ok love you_ , Matt texts back, his thumbs overlarge on the screen buttons.

He balls up the plastic bag his sandwich had been in and sticks it in his pocket, starting on the chips. It’s a little hotter today than yesterday, and a warm breeze ruffles his hair, makes the tree above him rattle its leaves. In the distance, the caretaker is shoving leaves into a big black trash bag.

Matt fights the urge to turn and look at the pair of graves behind him. He has the weirdest sensation that if he does, there will be someone there staring back.

 

 

  
  
  
They have sex that night after dinner, and after Matt has washed the spiderwebs out of his hair.

“You smell nice,” Techie mutters happily, burying his nose in Matt’s neck when he is still damp and warm from his shower, before crawling into his lap and riding him right there on the edge of the bed. It’s comfortable and sharp and sweet- all the little familiar things he never gets tired of. Kissing. The way Techie’s skinny thighs fit around his waist, the tight grip of his body. The way his nose wrinkles up when he’s close. He arches back when he comes, eyes closed, trusting the strength of Matt’s hands on his back to keep him from falling.

Afterwards they lie there, tangled up together on top of the blankets and Matt nearly falls asleep just like that before Techie pokes him awake.

“Are you awake?” Techie asks in a too-loud whisper. Matt feels a finger brushing lightly down the bridge of his nose.

“No,” he mutters without opening his eyes. He’s been tired all day and it’s hit him like a rush.

When the feather-light touches on his face continue he opens his mouth and gently bites Techie’s finger.

“Ouch. Mean.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Matt agrees.

Techie laughs, and Matt thinks of the dream he had the night before. Of that sharp flash of teeth and wanting to be devoured.

 

_Matt dreams of the party and Techie looking regal and fierce, with cold green eyes and slicked-back hair. Laughter in another room. Words whispered warm against his ear._

_“Who do you belong to?”_

_He is made of cloth, stitched together to look like a man. Techie’s clever hands reach under his suit, inside his stuffed cotton chest, finding all the strings there that will unravel him. He winds them between his pale fingers, like a cat’s cradle._

_“You,” he promises, desperate,“Always.”_

_A hint of a sneer as he pulls, “Prove it.”_

 

  
He has his lunch in the cemetery again because it’s quiet and convenient and the ground is comfortable where the sunlight warms it through the trees. It’s so tempting to lie back and take a nap in the warm grass, but he only has half an hour before his next service call. He slept badly again last night. Weird dreams.

Instead, he stretches his long legs out when he’s done eating, plays on his phone. There’s a headache crystallizing between his eyes which staring at a screen isn’t going to help, but hopefully it’ll go away as soon as the caffeine and sugar hits his brain. Techie had stuck a bag of peanut M&M’s in his lunchbox today, and he pours a big pile of them into his mouth as he scrolls.

His phone chirps as a text pops up.

_\- You left the front door wide open again._  
_\- Somebody could have come in._

Matt frowns.

_\- are you serious? I’m like 100% positive i locked it today. I made sure_

_\- I’m looking right at it._  
_\- Please be more careful, I know it’s dumb but you know how much that kind of thing freaks me out._

_\- No I know._  
_\- I closed it, I’m sure. It’s got to be the lock or something._  
_\- I’ll fix it when I get home_

_\- Ok, text me when you get off. I’m gonna go work at Starbucks._

_\- ok sorry. I love you_

_\- Love you too._

Matt stops at the store on his way home to buy some WD-40, but when he gets there the lock is fine. He tests the key and the bolt, sliding them back and forth, pushing on the door to make sure it stays shut. It does.

He checks all the closets and the crawlspace anyway just to make sure the house is empty before he texts Techie to let him know it’s safe to come home.

 

 

_He dreams._

_“You lied to me.”_

_“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you.”_

_“You said you loved me, you said-”_

_“Of course I love you. Quit being dramatic.”_

_“More than her? Your fucking fiancee? ”_

_“Does that matter?”_

_“I won’t share you,” the words snarl out of him, dark and ugly. He laces his fingers in soft copper hair and pulls until he can feel the whipcord strain of tense muscles. The jerk of a neck. “I will never leave you.” And this time it sounds like a threat._


End file.
